re evidently mere loose scandal.
[340] Grose narrates his early history thus:--"His parents dying when
he was very young, he soon squandered away his small patrimony, when
he became, at first an attendant in Lord Oxford's library, and
afterwards librarian; at whose death he was obliged to write for the
booksellers for a subsistence."
[341] Mr. John Taylor, the son of Oldys's intimate friend, has
furnished me with this interesting anecdote. "Oldys, as my father
informed me, was many years in quiet obscurity in the Fleet prison,
but at last was spirited up to make his situation known to the Duke
of Norfolk of that time, who received Oldys's letter while he was at
dinner with some friends. The duke immediately communicated the
contents to the company, observing that he had long been anxious to
know what had become of an old, though an humble friend, and was
happy by that letter to find that he was alive. He then called for
his _gentleman_ (a kind of humble friend whom noblemen used to
retain under that name in those days), and desired him to go
immediately to the Fleet, to take money for the immediate need of
Oldys, to procure an account of his debts, and discharge them. Oldys
was soon after, either by the duke's gift or interest, appointed
Norroy King of Arms; and I remember that his official regalia came
into my father's hands at his death."
In the "Life of Oldys," by Mr. A. Chalmers, the date of this
promotion is not found. My accomplished friend, the Rev. J.
Dallaway, has obligingly examined the records of the college, by
which it appears that Oldys had been _Norfolk herald extraordinary_,
but not belonging to the college, was appointed _per saltum_ Norroy
King of Arms by patent, May 5th, 1755.
Grose says--"The patronage of the duke occasioned a suspicion of his
being a papist, though I think really without reason; this for a
while retarded his appointment: it was underhand propagated by the
heralds, who were vexed at having a stranger put in upon them."
[342] The beautiful simplicity of this Anacreontic has met the
unusual fate of entirely losing its character, by an additional and
incongruous stanza in the modern editions, by a gentleman who has
put into practice the unallowable liberty of _altering_ the poetical
and dramatic compositions of acknowledged genius to his own
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